


In the Name of Science

by astronomer_looking



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Impregnation Kink, Masturbation, Trans Moira O'Deorain, and also dealing with shit, gender disphoria kinda?, just a lot of moira imagining, moira made herself a dick :O
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 04:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14394603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronomer_looking/pseuds/astronomer_looking
Summary: Moira has fantasized about one thing for many years. She used science to improve her condition and make her fantasy a reality.





	In the Name of Science

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic here on AO3. (ah wow!) I haven't written in 4 or 5 years, and have a long story on ffnet that I'm not sure will ever get finished. Besides, that story was about someone who is now an ex so the inspiration is kind of gone. Best to stick with one shots! 
> 
> As such, please enjoy this moicy. It started out as me exploring my feelings about my transness and how it relates to my kinks. Unbeta'd and entirely sloppy, please enjoy! 
> 
> p.s. if the dialogue and cadence sounds American, and thus out of character, it's because I'm American and made no effort to try to make the characters sound like themselves.

Moira was not sure when it started. Was it when she decided she perfered giving her partner pleasure more than receiving it? Was it when she realized that the only way she could get off while masturbating or during sex was to imagine cumming inside her partner? Was it reading embarrassingly bad hentai as a teenager that showed ejaculation inside of women? She was a scientist for crying out loud she knew that none of it was medically accurate. But she could not help it, she still got all hot and bothered by the idea. The concept. Just the idea of cumming inside a woman, of flooding her with seed, creating a child. Moira grimaced at how disgusting and misogynistic it sounded in her head after all these years. Yeah, just fill someone up with semen, forget about the fact that said person might then have a baby in 9 months. Splendid.

  
But the fantasy had plagued her for decades, wormed its way into the deepest recesses of her mind and it refused to budge. It only seemed to take a stronger hold as she progressed through her life: received her doctorate, came out as lesbian, queer, trans. Her identity was fluid, changing, and she felt more comfortable than teenage Moira ever imagined she could be: wearing her binder under her crisp white button down with the lavender tie, bending over a project in her Blackwatch lab.

  
Never one to ignore the facts, Moira had accepted her fantasy as a truth in her life she learned to embrace what turned her on. However, that was not enough. At the forefront of genetics, anything was possible, anything she imagined could become a reality through science. With no willing subjects and only one end goal in mind, Moira had become her own test subject yet again, and years of testing, genetic manipulation, and hormone adjustments had brought her vision to life. She had improved her body, improved her condition, created a new reality she inhabited.  
Moira’s hand clenched in a fist on the table, jaw tight. “My will made real.” The low phrase was a promise, a triumph, a reassurance, all bound into one. This line of thought had caused her to stray from her work. “Clear your head O’Deorain.” An order she struggled to follow with the pressure building in her pants. Hunched over the lab table she wrenched her fingers through her short hair, pushing it back from her face with a sneer. If only she had known she would start thinking with her head instead of her brain when she started this project. Deplorable.

  
Really though, it was a scientific miracle. Perhaps more accurately, it was a demonstration of her genius. Fully functional and able to provide viable semen, it had certainly taken some getting used to. Through fumbling encounters and trial and error she mastered the thing, Moira glared down at the bulge in the front of her pants, well mostly. With a groan she groped behind her back for the wheeled chair she abandoned earlier in the day. Gangly limbs askew, Moira flopped onto the padded cushion seat. Glancing at the clock she tsked, past midnight. It explained why none of the lab assistants had bothered her in a while.

  
She breathed out a puff of air into the silent lab, absentmindedly adjusting her hair. ‘Vanity in all things’ she mused as she stood, adjusting the front of her pants. Even just that slight touch on the sensitive area caused her problem to worsen. Moira grumbled and cursed at herself, damned if she would do anything about it in her lab. She kept a healthy separation between her work and personal life after all.

  
The sound of the lab door whooshing open broke her attention and she turned startled at the sudden intrusion in her lab. A cheery voice rang out “Dr. O’Deorain, I was not expecting to find you here this late.” Angela Zeigler, angel of battle medic extraordinaire stood in the doorway carrying a stack of thick folders. “I brought some cases for your team to look at.” Angela paused for a moment during which Moira felt the Swiss woman’s eyes on her body and she ventured, “Are you alright Dr. O’Deorain?”

  
Moira did not know quite what to say as she made eye contact with bright blue. Angela Ziegler had always been an attractive woman, a brilliant doctor, and incredible researcher. Great, just what she needed, a beautiful woman to appear before her when she is in this state. She glanced to the side and coughed, “Ah, yes quite alright. I was just leaving. Please feel free to leave those on the desk.” She gestured vaguely towards the back wall of the room before she swept out of the lab.

  
Moira could feel the other woman’s eyes on her retreating form. ‘Like a touch from afar’ the thought only served to spur her towards her room and the privacy of her own quarters.

  
***

 

The ghost of those eyes followed Moira for the next few weeks. On the off chance they were scheduled in the same meetings she could feel the bright blue eyes of the medic flicking towards her. When Moira was alone she found her thoughts straying. It was all in all very distracting, and very bad for her work progress. She clocked more late nights than usual to complete her work, but her wandering thoughts hindered the delicate tasks she needed to accomplish. Nagging at the back of her mind, and in the front of her pants, was the desire to fuck. More specifically, to fuck Angela Ziegler.

  
It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered it before. In fact, she had considered all the women in Overwatch as potential partners. A good scientist must take into account every option and weight it rationally. How long had it been since she had last been with a partner? Moira stopped her work and wracked her brain. She could not honestly say that she remembered the last time. “Well that explains that.” She groused, and a heady throb from between her legs agreed. She groaned, exasperated that biological needs impeded the progress of her experiments.

  
The clock read half past midnight. If she was going to do this she would at least go into her office at the back of the lab. Ever efficient, with the decision made Moira took long strides into her office and settled into the sparse couch. The clink of her belt coming undone was loud in the quiet office. Fly open, she fished her dick out of her trunks. She hissed as the sensitive skin hit the cold air in the lab, standing proudly erect. A perfect specimen, she let herself marvel at her creation for a moment before taking herself in her hand. A strangled moan escaped her lips as her warm hand enclosed her throbbing flesh, and she let her head fall back against the back of the couch. “Fuck…” Moira lifted her head for a moment to spit on her hand for some lube before she closed her eyes again and let herself drift into the fantasy.

  
She imagined a partner under her, naked, skin shining from the sweat of their combined body heat. The soft lines of breasts and hips supple under her fingers. She pressed her fingers in the bones of those hips, gripping hard as she thrust against the wetness between those legs. Head tucked into the crook of her partner’s neck, she kissed the soft skin up to a delicate ear pushing blonde hair out of her way. “You want this don’t you? You want me to fuck you?” A needy moan was the only answer she received.

  
Moira chuckled as she lined up her head with the sopping wetness. “you want me to fill you up, don’t you? You want my dick to split you open, stuff you so full you can’t breathe?” It was not a question. With a deliberate motion she pushed the bulbous head past the tight ring of muscle of her partner, the wet heat swallowing her and pulling her in. “Fuck you’re so tight” she eased her length deeper. “I’m going to make you mine, fuck, what a good tight pussy” she growled, teeth nipping at the shell of an ear. “Gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk. Fill you up with my dick. I will unmake you.” Moira started to move, slow thrusts becoming more desperate, hips snapping to meet the ones below her. She could feel the heat boiling in her abdomen, body a tight coil, heat pulsing around her length. “I’m going to cum inside you, fill you ‘til you’re bursting with my cum, fuck, with my babies.” Her whole body shuddered with that statement, she knew she would not last.

  
Her hips jerks erratically as she neared her peak, speech becoming grunts as she moved with her partner. Moira could feel the vice like grip around her and knew her partner was on the edge. “Fuck– fuck, god, Angela, I’m going to cum. Fuck, going to come inside you –” The tension in her body snapped as she exploded, ropes of semen shooting deep into the women beneath her, who moaned in her own orgasm.

  
Panting, Moira opened her eyes back in her cold empty office. Cum covered her hand, and had splattered on her pants, shirt, and even the floor. “Fuck.” She looked to her desk in an attempt to locate a tissue, just in time to see blonde hair vanish through lab door.


End file.
